


Your Skin and Bones (Something Beautiful)

by RoonilWazlibMalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, One Shot, Post-War, Sane Voldemort (Harry Potter), Vodka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23126110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoonilWazlibMalfoy/pseuds/RoonilWazlibMalfoy
Summary: Harry and Voldemort are in love. What more could Voldemort need?
Relationships: Harry Potter/Voldemort
Kudos: 135
Collections: Tomarry 💜





	Your Skin and Bones (Something Beautiful)

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Hogwarts Facebook group March 2020 Story Prompt Challenge, Prompt #3.
> 
> The title is referencing Yellow by Coldplay.

It had been four years since the end of the war, four years since his friends had all been killed, four years since Harry had fallen in love with their murderer. All things considered, Harry didn't regret any of it. Since that night in the graveyard when Tom had discovered his horcrux living within Harry, he'd been nothing short of wonderful. Of course, Harry'd had to spend the next few years hiding his true allegiance, but it had all been worth it in the end. It had all been worth it when the dust settled and he found that he was deeply in love with his mentor, his Lord, and that that love was returned whole heartedly. 

He had new friends, anyway, real friends. Friends like Severus who wouldn't abandon him when things got rough. Friends like Draco who were clever and intelligent, but never bossed him around or rejected his ideas simply because they hadn't come from a book. He had a beautiful Manor with a large bedroom, a home with a kitchen where he could cook for his friends (thanks for the lessons, Molly. Rest in peace), but where he never had to cook if he didn't want to. He had clothes that he chose, clothes that fit him. He had space for Hedwig to fly freely. And most importantly, he had someone who loved him and cherished him, someone who never lied to him and would kill to protect him. 

His relationship with Tom was something unexpected and beautiful. Dumbledore, the old fraud, had always told Harry that the Dark Lord was unable to love. Dumbledore had been wrong about a great many things, and especially wrong about this. Tom had as much capacity for love as Harry did, he just didn't love or trust blindly. Growing up as he had, as Harry also had, it was important to be choosy about who one devoted themselves to. That was something he'd learned from Tom. 

Yes, Tom loved. He loved his Death Eaters, as long as they were loyal, and he cherished his familiar, Nagini, but above all else Tom loved Harry. 

It had taken time to get to this point. He had made an orphan of his poor boy, had given him a difficult life. He had ironically nearly lost his life in the process of causing irrevocable damage to the man who would one day become his life. But upon regaining his body, he sensed something in Harry, an unquenchable fire that he was drawn to like a moth. It didn't take long for him to recognize a part of his own soul staring back at him through green eyes. And when he did, he knew that he must cherish this boy with all that he had. 

He took him under his wing and mentored him. He taught him of magic and the wizarding culture that muggle-borns were so intent on destroying. He taught him of power and how change could only happen if the people in power willed it. He didn't expect to fall in love, but he didn't regret any part of it. How could he, when Harry had brought him so much joy. Harry was so receptive and open. He listened and embraced and challenged Tom; he'd never known anyone like Harry.

And that was why Tom knew he had to change. When he looked at Harry's flawless dark skin, marred only by the mark he'd left on his precious head, at his thick dark hair, at his sculpted jaw and bright piercing eyes, Tom knew that Harry deserved something more than this grayish form, this distorted, snake-like face. Harry deserved to look upon Tom Riddle in all of his youthful splendor when they made love under the stars. He deserved to bury his fingers in his lover's rich soft curls, to see flushed pink cheeks, to hold smooth strong hands. 

It took much research and required a ritual of the deepest dark magic, but Harry was worth it. Harry would always be worth anything.

Harry knew that Tom was planning something big. He had that look in his crimson eyes, the look he got when he was plotting. He knew that Tom would tell him nothing until he was ready, so he didn't bother asking. Patience is a virtue when one loves a Dark Lord. 

His patience paid off on his birthday when, after a candlelit dinner - his favorite, spaghetti bolognese - and a walk through the garden, Tom told him that he had a surprise for him. He led Harry to a place he'd prepared for a ritual, out of the way near the back of their garden. 

"Ok," Tom began, "I'm going to need chicken blood, salt, five candles, and a bottle of vodka."

Harry chuckled. "A bottle of vodka? For the spell?"

"No," Tom replied, resigned, "it's just to make me feel better about ripping a hole in the universe."

Harry wanted to laugh, but Tom seemed serious. What on earth was he planning here? They had won the war, they were in charge and had long lives ahead of them. They were happy! What could be so serious?

Nonetheless, Harry summoned the items Tom had requested and set them before him. Then he sank to his knees beside his love and took his slim pale hand, admiring the way their skin contrasted, golden brown against icy pale. The sun and the moon, forever one a part of the other. Finally he asked, "What's this about, love?"

Tom tugged his hand free and began setting up the ritual as he explained, stopping now and then to take a swig from the bottle. By the time he had finished, saying, "I used to be beautiful, darling. You've seen me! You deserve that, at the very least," Harry was matching him drink for drink. 

"Tom," Harry started, grabbing his hand again and pulling him down, "don't you think that I know what I want?" He cradled Tom's pale face in his hands, brushing a hand over his smooth head, looking deep into his fiery eyes. "I love you just as you are, you know," he told his beloved. "If you want to look as you once did, I'd love you still, but you don't need to do this for me. Using a dark ritual to rip parts of the past away and into the future? This is so unnecessary, love."

Tom looked back at him in disbelief, taking another drink of liquor and passing the bottle back to Harry. "How can you love this, Harry? I understand fear or respect, but love? I'm a monster!"

Harry giggled, the vodka pounding through his veins at this point, and slipped a hand between the buttons of Tom's robe. "A monster? In bed maybe," he said cheekily, brushing his thumb over a hardened nipple. "I couldn't imagine being happier than I am right now and I couldn't imagine loving you more than I do right now. If you want to change your appearance, ask Sev to develop a potion for it," he suggested. 

"But for now," Harry said, pulling Tom closer, pressing his swiftly hardening cock against Tom's hip, "we're alone and tipsy under the stars. I think we can find something better to do than tearing holes in space and time, don't you love?"

Tom pressed his lips against Harry's soft mouth, carding a hand through his thick hair. "I suppose the ritual can wait until after I ask Severus about a potion," he mused. "But i don't think you can wait, darling." 

With that said, he pushed his young lover down into the grass and lay down over him, pressing their bodies together. Their mouths never parted as they quickly undressed each other, spending the rest of the night wrapped around one another, sky clad beneath the stars.


End file.
